


summer night daydreams

by Caelestria



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Car Sex, Coming of Age, M/M, Smut, Top Mark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 22:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15010772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caelestria/pseuds/Caelestria
Summary: Eighteen years old, no ongoing girlfriend, and no stories to tell. Mark was tired of being told he was boring. It was summer, and he vowed to make a memory that would last. That was the summer that he met Jackson.(is it a daydream or is it fate)





	summer night daydreams

It was one of those summer nights where the heat poured over you like a blanket and the chirping crickets sent you into a daze. The heated sky faded into the distance, blurring into the horizon. Mark couldn’t tell where the world ended or began. It was like a dream. 

However, Mark had been experiencing this same dream for the last eighteen years of his life - no changes. Today, he was out here to make a difference in the monotony of his teenage years. He had just graduated high school and was on the cusp of becoming a college student. Time wasn’t stopping for him. If anything, it only seemed to be moving faster.

After his last girlfriend broke up with him for the same reason as the previous two, he firmed his resolve to change. He let himself be dragged out by his friend that night, and his friend had plopped him right in the middle of a bonfire hosted by some older kids. Beer was sitting in a melting cooler over to the side, but Mark hadn’t touched it. He was standing by himself, watching the flames burst and crackle. Nothing was changing. Again, he was standing on the sidelines, observing as other people had fun without him. 

As he watched, however, he noticed one of the guys kept turning to look at him. At first, Mark brushed it off as nothing. The stranger had returned to laugh with his friends. It was fine. But then it happened again. After the fifth time, Mark thought that maybe it was because he stood out too much, hanging around by himself. However, it was a couple more times and then the stranger was trudging through the sand to get to him. 

“Hey,” the stranger said. 

The light of the fire blazed behind him, and Mark couldn’t quite make out his face. 

“Hi,” Mark said quietly.

“I’m Jackson.”

“Mark.”

“I noticed you were here by yourself.”

“I came here with my friend actually. Bambam.”

“Oh, you know Bam!” Jackson said excitedly. They must be friends too. “He’s so chill. Ah, but he just left with…”

“Yugyeom, yeah, I saw.”

“So… you’re here by yourself,” Jackson stated, returning to his original claim.

“You could say that,” Mark answered quietly, unsure of his own standing.

“Do you want to come play beach volleyball with us?” Jackson tilted his head toward the other guys he was with. 

Mark studied them warily. He was about to refuse when he recalled his previous intention. Rewrite his boring life projection. Make new memories. 

“Sure,” Mark said. And then he even tried smiling to this stranger.

Mark was good at volleyball. He played it on his high school team, and they had won more games than lost. Volleyball while tripping over himself in the sand was a different story. Mark was paired with Jackson, playing against two of Jackson’s friends. Mark fell a few times trying to set the ball, but he quickly grasped the physics of the ground. They made a good team, he realized. Despite having never talking before this encounter, they had great chemistry. 

They shouted single-word messages to each other, reading the rest of the sentence automatically in their heads. Well, it wasn’t truly spontaneous. They had their fumbles, their slips. However, they learned each other quickly. Over the course of a few plays, they were reacting to each other’s movements. Mark had never felt so close to anyone in his life. When they played, it was as if they were one body split into two.

Exhausted, Jackson’s friends dropped out first. Jackson shot Mark a look, and the challenge was evident in his gaze. Biting his lip, Mark nodded. He was down for another game. Jackson ducked under the net, and now they were facing each other for a one on one. Mark widened his stance, taking up more of the field. In the firelight, Mark studied Jackson’s features fully for the first time. Initially, there was a manliness to him that Mark figured would attract girls instantly. However, looking closer, the shape of his eyes and the softness of his lips were definitely androgynous. Mark took a step back, his eyes focusing in on the volleyball in Jackson’s hands.

“Are you from around here?” Jackson asked, startling Mark out of his game mood. 

“Uh, yeah. I am.” Mark watched Jackson pass the worn ball between his hands, back and forth. “Are you?”

“No,” Jackson grinned, throwing the ball into the air. He served overhand. “Just visiting.”

“I see,” Mark responded before hitting the ball. 

They somehow held a conversation. Running around and out of breath, they still managed to talk to each other. They shared various anecdotes about their lives, where they grew up. Mark asked how Jackson knew Bambam since he wasn’t from around. Jackson asked if Mark had ever come to the beach like this before. Mark learned that Jackson was also an athlete, and that explained how ripped he was. Jackson learned that Mark was straight.

“Hey, Jacks!” one of his friends yelled, walking over. They stopped their game, and Mark caught the ball instead of bumping it. “We’re thinking about going to In-n-Out in a few.”

“Okay,” Jackson called back. 

“You guys are leaving?” Mark asked. He held the ball that didn’t belong to him against his chest.

Jackson turned to Mark, looking at him through the white boxes of the net separating them. He walked right up to it, stringing his fingers through the holes. 

“I like talking to you,” Jackson said honestly, and that was the first time Mark had heard those words directed at him. 

“Then talk to me again,” Mark said in a rush. As soon as he met Jackson’s eyes, he got embarrassed. “I-I mean, later, if you have time. Or want to still.”

Jackson nodded slowly, and Mark could almost see the idea forming on his face. “How about right now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s keep talking.”

“I’m… we… your friends,” Mark finally settled on the excuse. “Shouldn’t you go with them?”

Jackson shrugged. “Did you come in your car?”

“Yeah,” Mark said.

“Good, then I have a way back to the hotel,” Jackson said, making up an itinerary all on his own.

“Are you sure?” Mark asked to be safe because, really, he had no qualms with it himself. 

“Let’s go sit in your car. We can pretend we’re going somewhere until we actually come up with a plan.”

“Are you always like this?” Mark laughed, incredulous. How could this kid just keep moving without any consideration for the future. There was no roadmap, no directions, and Jackson was speeding ahead without a single glance back. 

Jackson ducked back under the net to Mark’s side. He stole the ball that Mark was anxiously grabbing at. 

“Yo, Jaebum! Heads up!” Jackson shouted before lobbing the ball toward his face. His friend barely caught it in time, sending Jackson a series of curses in return. Jackson whipped back on Mark, eyes ablaze. “Let’s go!”

Jackson grabbed Mark’s hand, and they ran, albeit slowly in the sinking ground. Sand splashed all around them, and no one was actually on their tail. It was more of a trek than a sprint. However, Mark’s heart hadn’t pounded so loudly in a while.

They made it to Mark’s car, slamming into the front seats. Mark leaned his head back against the headrest, eyes closing. He tried to even out his breathing. Blinking, he startled to see eyes on him. 

“You got so excited when I said you were fun to talk to,” Jackson commented. 

Somehow the space had shrunk between them. Although his car was fairly spacious, all of the air had sucked into the center, and Mark found it hard to breathe. The car doors muted out the sound of the waves crashing against the wet sand, the gentle breeze shifting through the palms, and the bugs copulating. The world was suspended on only them – two guys sitting in a car. 

“No one’s ever told me that before,” Mark whispered. Because he did not dare raise his voice any louder, else reality would come crashing back around him. And his daydream would be shattered.

Jackson hummed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Seriously,” Mark protested. “People say I’m boring.”

“Tell me who,” Jackson insisted, “and I’ll beat their ass.”

“My ex-girlfriend, for one, and please don’t beat anyone’s ass.”

“It’s still a little tempting,” Jackson joked, but then he became serious. “But why though? Did you two just never talk to each other? Were you not on the same wavelength?”

“I don’t know. She would say that I never started conversations with her. At one point she thought that _I_ had lost interest in _her_. Maybe that’s why. But by your logic, I wouldn’t be on the same wavelength as anyone.”

“Don’t say that. We’re talking now, aren’t we?”

“And you find it ‘fun’?” Mark asked, quoting what Jackson had said.

“Definitely. _Therefore_ , we must be on the same wavelength.”

“You and you only,” Mark grumbled. 

Jackson turned to look away from Mark. Mark glanced over at the movement, surprised to see a solemn expression overtake Jackson’s features. He quietly stared out the windshield at the beach. 

“What about your other ex-girlfriends?” Jackson finally asked.

“Um,” Mark thought back. His most recent breakup had been so traumatic that he hadn’t thought much about his past failures. “They all said the same thing, basically. It was fun in the beginning, but then they got tired of me. Not me, necessarily, but like ‘us’ being together.”

“No way,” Jackson complained. “That’s so unfair. I know we’ve only known each other for like what – an hour or two? But I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. I’d need months or years to fully understand who you are and what made you who you are right now, sitting in front of me.”

“That’s nice of you,” Mark said, staring at his fingernails on his steering wheel. 

“Tell yourself that you’re worth it, and other people will begin to see that too.”

“You should be a motivational speaker or something.” Mark nodded, sending Jackson a shy smile. And though it came off as a joke, Mark really meant what he said.

“Don’t change the subject! I can tell you’re deflecting. Thank you though. I know I’m awesome.”

Mark snorted. 

“Has it always just been girls?” Jackson questioned.

“And my guy friends. I know they’re just messing around, saying that it’s like talking to a wall, but it still gets to me sometimes, you know?” Mark found himself revealing more to this stranger than he had to his closest friends growing up. 

“I’d say your wall would have the prettiest wallpaper I’ve ever seen,” Jackson grinned. 

Mark rolled his eyes, not enjoying the joke. “Don’t start too.”

Jackson nodded, acknowledging the negative feedback, but he had to ask, just to be sure. “What about boyfriends then?”

“What? No!”

“You’ve never even—?”

“What the fuck?” Mark asked, refusing to look at Jackson. Suddenly, he was very aware of the man sitting in his passenger seat, of how he had just been called _pretty_. His head was swirling with the realization that he had let a total stranger into his car. He didn’t know where this was going. He didn’t even really know whom Jackson was or if that was even his real name. What the hell was he thinking?

“Sorry, it was just a question,” Jackson backed off. “Um… Should we get going then?” His eyes flicked to the dashboard. It was 9. “It’s getting late.”

Mark pressed the ignition. “Where’s your hotel?”

“It’s the Hilton.”

“Oh, the big one by…”

“Yeah.”

Mark stepped on the break to shift the car into reverse. He felt the silence pressing into him, suffocating him like he had never felt before. He wondered if this is what his exes had felt in the car with him, drowning in the quiet. 

Mark paused at the stop sign exiting the parking lot. The steady tick of his blinker was going off in the background, but he ignored it. He turned to face Jackson. The doused glow of the full moon above shone into the front seat. It lit Jackson in a pale light.

“I’m not actually disgusted or anything. I’m not homophobic. I was just… surprised. That’s all. It was really sudden to ask.” Mark couldn’t say why it was a shock, however. He had never reacted that badly to anything before, really. This was new. However, it wasn’t the kind of new that Mark was looking for.

“But it isn’t a problem to ask about your ex-girlfriends?” Jackson grumbled, and Mark could hear the bitterness in his voice even though Jackson refused to look back at him.

“You’re right,” he responded gently. “It’s heteronormativity at its finest.”

“Wow, I didn’t think you were so learned,” Jackson shot back sarcastically. Another car’s headlights shone in through the back window. “Someone’s behind you. You have to move.”

So Mark turned right and continued driving. Only then did Jackson venture a look back. Mark was biting his lip, and Jackson could tell he was nervous. 

“I only asked to be sent back just in case you felt uncomfortable,” Jackson admitted. “If you’re still cool with me, then we’re good.”

Mark’s gaze flickered off the road. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?”

Jackson let out a big breath. “Perfect. I thought I had fucked everything up.”

“You wouldn’t,” Mark assured.

“You say that now,” Jackson rationalized grimly, but then he let out a high-pitched laugh. Mark looked over in surprise, and then he laughed too. It was ridiculous, but that’s just how it happened. The tension between them loosened, and Mark wasn’t afraid to let his eyes leave the road to watch Jackson as he talked.

They were driving on the winding path up the hill. To their right was the ocean, vast and bright. It reflected the moon, a sparkling mirror despite its disturbed surface. From it, Mark could see Jackson’s smile as he talked animatedly. Jackson brought up a story Mark had told him while they were playing against each other on the beach. He laughed a second time imagining how Mark tried to do the cinnamon challenge but ended up coughing the powder all over his friend’s face. Jackson seamlessly added onto that, and somehow, everything seemed mended over after that.

Mark watched Jackson’s face, smiling and bright. The moon was full behind him. Jackson rolled down the window and howled into the night sky. The wind twisted into their hair, sending everything into a frenzy. The cliffside railing sped past in a blur as Mark drove at a solid 60. The turns were blind, and Mark was fairly distracted. It was a miracle that they didn’t crash and tumble down the cliff. However, it didn’t feel like a gift anymore when Mark made it back onto the main street and the hotel was in sight.

Mark pulled into the round driveway at the hotel’s entrance. Jackson was about to unbuckle his seatbelt when Mark swerved, continuing down the lane into the hotel parking lot. Towards the back of the lot, he parked them perfectly between two large SUVs, not missing the lines at all. 

“Mark? What are you…?”

Mark shut off the engine, but neither of them moved. 

“What were you going to ask before I interrupted you?” Mark finally spoke. “Talking about guys, that I’ve never even… what?”

Mark could hear Jackson breathe. It didn’t take much for Jackson to recall the blunt end to the conversation that was still raw in both of their minds.

“Ever thought about being with a guy. Ever kissed a guy. Ever fantasized accidentally,” Jackson continued. “Something like that.”

There was only a grimy light shining over them in the sparsely lit lot. It flickered occasionally, sending a pattern that was impossible to decipher. However, that wasn’t why Mark was staring at Jackson’s face so intently. He wasn’t reading the Morse code of the broken light off the shine of Jackson’s skin. 

“I haven’t,” Mark answered vaguely. Then he explained, “I’ve never kissed a guy.”

“That’s okay,” Jackson said, as if to reassure him, but then he had to ask about Mark’s clarification. “Then what about—?”

“I’m curious.”

Jackson blinked up at him. “Um, should I…?” he began, but he was already undoing his seatbelt and leaning over armrest. It was a shot in the dark, but would someone like Mark really bring this up again for nothing? He didn’t have to talk to Mark long to know that he was beyond careful. “Do you want to try?”

Jackson was bent forward, but Mark wasn’t moving away. Their eyes were locked on each other, frozen in place. Jackson was moving on instinct alone, following the attraction that pulled him to Mark’s lips. They were close enough that Jackson could feel how Mark had forgotten to breathe. He thought that he could feel Mark’s heartbeat pulsing off of his skin, but maybe that was just his own. 

Yet, still, Mark wasn’t backing out. 

Jackson closed his eyes and pecked Mark’s lips softly. It was a gentle press, in and out like a vaccine needle. There and then gone. However, the lingering sensation of Mark’s lips was incredibly present, even as Jackson pulled away. 

“How was it?” Jackson ventured, still twisted over the center console.

“It… wasn’t bad,” Mark responded.

“Cool,” Jackson said. 

Then their eyes met, and the spark relit. Wordlessly, they pulled into each other in synchronism, meeting like wave to shore. Mark’s hand came up automatically to cup the base of Jackson’s head, and Jackson clung onto Mark’s shoulder. They kissed like nothing Mark had ever experienced, and he couldn’t understand it. 

It wasn’t just blood pumping through his veins. It was fire. And he had never felt so alive as when he was kissing this complete stranger-become-non-stranger in the front seat of his car. 

Mark pulled back for air, but the actuality of their situation slapped him in the face instead. 

“Sorry, I… That was weird. I’ve never—“

“Done anything like that?” Jackson smirked, finishing his sentence. His other hand found its way to Mark’s neck. He played with the baby hairs running along his nape. It felt like peach fuzz. “You liked it though, right?”

Mark was too stunned to nod his head, but Jackson was moving at his own pace. He leaned forward, and then they were kissing again. It was just that simple. It was so easy, but Mark’s brain had lost function. 

It was when Jackson’s tongue licked at the seam of Mark’s mouth that he awoke. Mark surged forward, parting his lips to let Jackson in. They drank into each other, fueling an inner desire that Mark had never known existed. 

Mark noticed Jackson’s hand leave his hair, but he didn’t think much of it until he felt it again on the front of his pants. Mark jolted backwards violently, smacking his head against the window. 

“What the shit,” he cursed. “Don’t touch—!” 

Looking down, he saw Jackson’s hand hadn’t moved. At staggered intervals, they both came to realize that Mark was incredibly fucking hard. Jackson looked up at Mark with wide eyes that were wholly unfair. He squeezed around the bulge, indulging in the surprise. Mark shuddered, and he lost the will to protest. 

“Do I really have to stop?” Jackson asked. 

“Please… no,” Mark near whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

So Jackson got up and climbed over the gearshift, taking Mark by surprise. He landed in Mark’s lap, and Mark felt the fullness of his ass pressed against his thighs. As a precaution, he glanced out the window, but all he saw was the darkened hotel building and the white walls of the moving vans lining his car. There was a chance of getting caught, and that fear was palpitating under his skin. However, he knew that they were as safe as they were going to get. 

“Scoot your chair back,” Jackson instructed. “As far as it can go.”

Mark fumbled blindly for the control. When he finally found it, the seat crawled backwards with such a lack of speed that Jackson was doubled over in laughter. 

“Stop it. You’re ruining the mood,” Mark complained, but he was laughing back too. 

When the chair hit the end of its track, Jackson dropped backwards and landed snuggly in between Mark’s knees. He looked up with those shining eyes, and Mark was assured that the mood was definitely not lost. 

Jackson undid Mark’s belt and unzipped the front. He pulled off Mark’s jeans and uncovered his bright red boxer briefs. And then Jackson was laughing again. 

Mark could feel his erection withering. “What now?”

“It’s fate,” Jackson whispered, but there was a cheeky smile lighting up his face that Mark wasn’t buying. 

However, before Mark could ask again, Jackson was pulling down his own waistband. He tried to maneuver himself into the light from the window. Mark saw that his underwear was also that same shade of red. 

“Red Thread of Fate,” Jackson explained. 

Mark hummed softly in acknowledgement, recognizing the Chinese legend. 

“I wonder what that means,” Jackson said noncommittally, returning his attention to Mark’s crotch. It didn’t look like he was thinking that hard. Rather, it appeared that Jackson was more interested in what was underneath that red cloth.

Jackson rubbed against the obvious outline that was curved against the fabric. Interrupting all of Mark’s thoughts, he swiftly pulled down the band and swallowed Mark into his mouth. Mark threw his head against the seat as a moan threatened to leave his throat. 

Jackson bent forward, taking in Mark deep. He closed his eyes to feel Mark’s cock pressing against the back of his throat.

“Shit,” Mark cursed. He watched in fascination as Jackson’s face tucked so perfectly between his thighs. His fingers naturally threaded through Jackson’s hair, urging him on. 

Jackson pulled back, lifting his eyes to stare deeply at Mark the entire way, until his head hit the steering wheel and Mark was only pressed against his lips. The limited range of motion only meant that Jackson had to spend more time with Mark fully in his mouth. However, that wasn’t a problem for either one of them. Moreover, Jackson hadn’t used his hands once, but he didn’t even have to. Mark had never seen anyone take him down so easily, so eagerly. Jackson didn’t stop staring when he went back down again, and Mark had never felt so exposed.

But somehow, Mark couldn’t find it within himself to tell this stranger just how sexy he was on his knees with Mark’s cock down his throat. The words seemed to give away too much of his own inner feelings, feelings that he had never addressed before. The whole experience was unreal, but Mark couldn’t have imagined it even in a dream. Yet, that schism from reality was the only thing keeping Mark sane. If it was only a fantasy, then maybe Mark could just give in and let himself go.

Jackson deepthroated Mark again, catching him off guard. Mark cursed, feeling the head of his dick rub against the soft ridges of Jackson’s throat. Jackson kept his eyes on Mark as he popped off. He let Mark’s wet cock rub against his cheek as he lowered himself to suck at Mark’s balls. That was the only time Jackson broke eye contact. Mark squirmed a little, unused to the feeling.

“You don’t… have to go that far,” Mark said, reaching for Jackson’s head.

Jackson glanced up, and the look he gave him was more than dirty. It was like he was begging for a treat. “I want to,” he replied.

Mark leaned back with a tense exhale, giving in. Jackson happily went right back to business. Mark sat, watching Jackson pleasure him, but his dick was aching for attention. The saliva that had warmed it had cooled.

“Jacks…” Mark began, but the other had already gotten the message. 

Jackson tipped his head up, taking Mark back into his heat. As Jackson slid Mark’s length up and down past his lips, Mark shivered wondering what it would feel like inside Jackson. His thighs clenched unconsciously.

Jackson noticed the movement and glanced up. Mark felt like he was caught red-handed on a dangerous thought, but he couldn’t let it go. 

“I wanna fuck you,” Mark let out in a flurry. He wasn’t even sure if he was using proper sentence structure until the words echoed back into his ears. Then, he blushed.

Jackson popped off, his mouth hanging open. Even he was taken aback by Mark’s words. That made Mark wince. He wished he could take back what he said, but it was too late. The sentiment was out there, and Jackson was now aware of exactly what Mark was thinking. Mark couldn’t back off now.

“I have condoms,” Mark offered, more dejected than assured. He nodded over to his glove box. “Bought them recently. They’re new.”

Jackson laughed lightly. “Are you trying to sell rubbers or yourself?”

Jackson finally used his hand then. He gripped around Mark’s base, exploring up the length. It was like he was testing the product, but Mark might have been a little oxygen-deprived just watching this all go down. He was getting all sorts of crazy thoughts while trying to pin down Jackson’s expression. 

“I’m… not that bad either. Pretty, um, decent, I guess,” Mark ventured, trying to ‘sell himself.’ But Jackson only sucked at the tip, debating in silence. Mark jolted every time a particularly intense suction hit him.

After an eternity, Jackson looked up with a smile. “Okay, yeah, I’m down. Fuck me decently.”

Mark wanted to knock himself in the head for putting it that way, but he had been given the green light and he was going. He grabbed for his glove box handle and retrieved the box of condoms he had in there. 

Meanwhile, Jackson was clamoring onto his lap and pulling down his pants in the cramped space. Jackson might have almost kneed Mark in the balls, but he tried not to think about that. Jackson peered over Mark’s head at what he was doing.

“Wow, full set. It really is a new box,” Jackson commented. 

“I… never got to use them,” Mark admitted. 

“Ooh, virgin?”

“Not virgin. Just… car sex virgin.”

“Oh, I’ll blow you away,” Jackson said confidently. 

Mark looked up then, and he was surprised by how close Jackson was. He was kneeling on the seat over Mark’s thighs. If Mark moved forward a couple inches, he would smack right into Jackson’s chest. His eyes moved down out of curiosity, and he realized that Jackson was completely bare underneath his shirt. 

“Turned off yet, straight boy?” Jackson asked, trying to joke. However, Mark could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He noticed how Jackson shifted to try to cover the erection that was peeking out from under. 

Before Mark could answer, Jackson was moving on. “Do you have any lotion or lube or anything?”

“Lotion? Yeah, I have hand cream.” Mark pulled out the tube from the glove box. Jackson stole it from him and squeezed out a glob. Capping the tube, he threw it into the cup holder.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Jackson whispered. “Once I’m done, it won’t be so different from fucking a girl.” 

He bent forward, catching Mark’s mouth with his lips. He didn’t ask if Mark would mind kissing him after having his dick in his mouth, but Mark didn’t seem to complain. Jackson used his left hand to stroke Mark’s cock, keeping him hard. His other hand disappeared behind him. 

Mark could feel Jackson’s breathing deepen, and he was insanely curious. However, he knew better than to delve into something he knew nothing about. He figured he would just trust Jackson to do what he had to. His only part was to kiss Jackson senseless.

“Condom on, now,” Jackson demanded after a good while. 

Mark did as he was told without question. He ripped open a wrapper and slid the latex on. Jackson removed his fingers, and Mark was ready with a fast food restaurant napkin. 

“You’re so prepared. It’s like a boy scout’s camp in here,” Jackson said, looking around the car in faux wonder. 

Mark wiped the excess lotion off of Jackson’s fingers and tossed the dirty napkin onto the floor. He chose to ignore what Jackson had said, instead placing his hands on Jackson’s hips. He had seen earlier that Jackson’s ass was round enough to stand out in his loose swim trunks, but feeling the muscle under his fingertips was another story. His hands wandered back, massaging. 

Jackson squirted more lotion over the tip of Mark’s cock, and then he proclaimed he was ready. He sank down slowly, controlling the movement. Mark moaned as his tip breached past the initial ring of muscle. He kept a steady eye on Jackson’s expressions, making sure he was okay. 

It was dark inside the car, but Jackson was smiling back down at him. He could see that much. Jackson’s hands came up to rest on Mark’s shoulders. The touching, the eye contact, and the close space – all of that seemed to build the intimacy. Mark was confused; he didn’t know what this was. What were they doing? However, when Jackson sank all the way down and they both groaned at the feeling, Mark totally forgot his internal questions. 

Jackson’s head dropped down onto Mark’s shoulder, panting hard. Mark didn’t admit it, but he needed a moment too. Jackson was tighter than anything he had ever felt, and it was pushing him to the edge faster than he would have liked. Then Jackson began moving, and Mark thought he was really going to lose his mind to this handsome stranger. 

Jackson was moaning in one ear, and the wet sounds of slapping skin was echoing in his other. Mark felt like he was being smothered by the sensuality of the moment. He needed an outlet; he had to give back. Mark’s fingers tightened where they were clutching Jackson’s hips. He slammed up where he could, taking Jackson by surprise. Jackson let out a really good sound then, and Mark smirked, immensely pleased that his actions had an effect on him. 

Yet, that was still not enough. Something was missing. Mark tilted Jackson’s head up to face him. Jackson’s eyes were hazy with tears, and the blush on his cheeks spread down his neck. Mark would have been concerned that Jackson was in pain, but the sounds from his mouth and the movements of his hips were not ones of discomfort. Mark broke out in a smile, unable to help it; the moment had filled him with such a sense of euphoria. He kissed Jackson. All on his own, he pressed in deep, leading the way. 

The pieces seemed to click - that was exactly what he was looking for, that kiss - but now Mark was heading off the cliff way too fast. He could feel every minute gasp from Jackson against his lips. He focused on moving his mouth to alleviate the pressure building in his balls. However, the occasional tightening of Jackson around him was thoroughly distracting. 

“Jackson, I’m close,” Mark panted. He watched sweat roll down Jackson’s hairline.

“Touch me,” Jackson begged, and somehow Mark knew exactly what to do. He wrapped his hand around Jackson’s cock, and he felt how much was already leaking out. Mark looked up at Jackson in awe. He had never seen a reaction like that, and in the most scientific terms, it was fascinating. As someone making another person feel this fucking good, it was absolutely thrilling, and Mark loved it. 

“Are you… too?” Mark had to ask.

Jackson nodded, his hair falling into his face. He murmured out Mark’s name with a curse. Then he bit his lip, eyes squeezing shut, focusing on the feeling inside him. Mark watched on, studying every flicker of his eyebrows, feeling every squeeze around his cock. 

But as he watched Jackson so closely, he lost his control. He felt the pressure swell, and then his hips were thrusting up into Jackson. He held Jackson down on him, his cock shoved completely inside. He accidentally let out a little sound as the pressure broke, and then he was coming into the condom. His fingers dug into Jackson’s hips as he refused to vocalize the orgasm that ripped through him.

“Sorry,” Mark muttered, coming down from his high and ashamed. Gradually, the electricity faded from his skin, and he let his head drop onto Jackson’s shoulder. He felt Jackson kiss his temple. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“I really… I swear I don’t normally finish that fast.”

“It’s okay,” Jackson hushed him.

Jackson’s arms came up to wrap around Mark’s head. Mark still refused to show his face out of shame, but Jackson was petting the crown of his head. As Mark looked down and rediscovered the position of his body parts, he found his hand around Jackson’s erection still. They were both sweaty, and Mark was ready to just pass out against Jackson’s collarbone. But he was resolved to make sure Jackson finished too. He pumped his fist a few times, and Jackson shuddered. They fell into a steady motion, and Jackson rocked back and forth on Mark’s spent cock.

Tilting his head up finally, Mark kissed Jackson softly. Jackson ground against his hips, pushing Mark’s dick against his prostate before he had a chance to get soft. After less than a minute of this back and forth, Jackson ejaculated hard into Mark’s waiting hand. The moans from Jackson’s mouth as he shuddered violently around Mark were enough to make his cock twitch again. 

Mark kissed him through it, making sure he was completely finished. When nothing else was coming out of Jackson’s dick, Mark released his hold. Wiping his hands with the same dirty napkins, he then turned back to face Jackson. 

It was strange. In the faint light from the lamps outside, Jackson seemed to glow. He stared at Mark with a vague wonderment in his eyes. It was like they were both questioning whether the other was real. Maybe this was all a figment of their imagination. Neither could tell. 

However, Mark could feel his cum beginning to drip down to his balls, and it was really ruining the moment.

“Let me take the condom off,” Mark said. If he got soft like this, gravity would cause everything to pour out. That was the last thing he wanted to bleach off of his seat cushions.

But Jackson got the wrong idea. His eyes widened. “You want to do it raw?”

“What? No!” Mark exclaimed. “I just meant I want to clean up!”

“Oh,” Jackson said softly. He bit his lip shyly, and Mark began thinking that he kind of looked like a turtle when he did that. Jackson’s top lip would point down, resembling a turtle’s beak. It was cute.

“Do you want to?” Mark found himself asking before his brain could catch up. In hindsight, he should have continued to harmlessly think about turtles. He shouldn’t have considered how nice it would be to feel Jackson’s walls rub directly against his cock without a barrier.

“I guess we don’t know each other very well,” Jackson said slowly, but it wasn’t denial. Then again, it also wasn’t acceptance.

“No, I suppose not,” Mark agreed.

Jackson picked himself up, sliding off of Mark painfully slowly. Mark groaned at the feeling. Though he was tired before, watching Jackson unravel by his hands was enough to wake him back up. He wouldn’t mind a second round anymore, but he was scared to push it now, even normally.

Mark removed and tied off the used condom and placed it on top of the pile of dirty napkins. He got another napkin and wiped himself up. 

Jackson was sitting on his lap still, naked from the waist down. His knees were by Mark’s hips, and his ass was resting on Mark’s knees. His hands were on Mark’s thighs, rubbing in slow circles. Mark felt a little embarrassed that his dick was still out. 

“You were really much more than decent. Don’t sell yourself short,” Jackson said. 

“If I set low expectations, they’re easier to surpass.”

“You don’t even need to bother with that psych bullshit. You know,” Jackson’s fingers twisted nervously. “No one has ever made me cum from behind like that.”

Mark’s head jerked up. “Really?”

“Yeah they’d let get me off by myself after or just leave it. Or I’d fuck them.”

“Really?” Mark said again, but this time there was a deeper wonderment in his voice. He didn’t sound like a child waiting to be praised; he sounded… intrigued.

“Wanna try?” Jackson grinned. 

“Ah... I don’t know about that,” Mark said, blushing that he was that obvious. “I think I’ve tried enough new things for a night.”

He thought about everything that had happened in the span of a few hours spent with this man. He had spoken to a stranger like an old friend. He had invited said stranger into his car. Then, he had had the best sex in his life. 

“You were still considering doing it raw,” Jackson smirked, reading his mind.

“You don’t even know if I’m clean.”

“I already sucked you off without a condom. I sure hope you’re clean.”

“I am.”

“And I am too. Do you trust me?” 

Mark looked up at Jackson. His eyes were drawn to Jackson’s lips like magnets. Their connection was electric. He couldn’t deny that. At this point, it didn’t even matter if he trusted Jackson. He was hard again just thinking about doing it a second time, and he wanted nothing else. 

Mark nodded, a little too eagerly, and Jackson knew to check downstairs. He saw Mark’s erection pushing up against his shirt. Jackson smiled widely, looking like a kid who just got the toy he had wanted all year. 

“Let’s go upstairs. My friends won’t be coming back for a while.”

“What? How do you know?”

Jackson pulled out his phone and flashed a message on his lock screen. It read:

_Hey come to party on 92nd. Hot girls._

Then another text of his friend’s current location. 

“So you’re bi?” Mark asked. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be. Come upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Mark smiled. 

Then they were rushing out of the car and pulling up their pants, all in some sort of order. Mark flipped his erection up into the waistband of his boxers. Then ran into the hotel, and Jackson was less than subtle. He had his hand in Mark’s back pocket as he walked past the receptionist to the elevators. Once the metal doors slid shut, Jackson cornered Mark against the wall. He rolled his body up against Mark, enjoying how Mark shivered when he hit a good spot against his cock. Mark retaliated in his own way. He breathed against Jackson’s lips, but refused to kiss him. Jackson knew he was being teased, but it felt so damn good that he played into it.

When the doors opened, they ran out. Mark’s hands were under Jackson’s shirt. Jackson was practically already in Mark’s pants. They somehow stumbled into Jackson’s room. Jackson blindly led him to his bed and pushed him down. Then he got on top, throwing off his shirt. Mark saw the muscles circling Jackson’s body and the tattoo above his hip bone. 

“Are you Chinese?” Mark asked as he let himself be stripped by Jackson. 

“Yeah, it’s my last name,” Jackson explained, following Mark’s eyes.

“King,” Mark smirked, amused. 

“Fuck yeah, I am,” Jackson said confidently. He crawled forward over Mark’s body, untucking him from his pants. He stroked him a few times, then aligned himself.

“Are we really…?” Mark asked suddenly, feeling Jackson directly against the tip of his cock. Skin to skin. 

“I think it’s clear that we both want it.”

Mark nodded, and that’s all it took. Jackson sank down. Mark tensed up immediately, and he groaned into Jackson’s neck. Without the layer of a condom, Mark could feel how Jackson squeezed directly over his erection, how Jackson’s walls would catch on the rim of his head. Before he could recover, Jackson was already moving on his own, flexing his thighs on top of Mark. 

“You wanted to try something new?” Jackson asked, mirth on his face. 

Mark got the message. Holding Jackson, he flipped their positions. Jackson’s back hit the mattress with a little bounce, and Mark followed on top. Finally in a bed, he had a full range of motion. Mark slapped his hips against Jackson’s, and the sound was obscene. It didn’t take him long to figure out where Jackson liked it best, and then they were racing each other off the peak. 

Mark didn’t keep track of how many times they came, but he was continually impressed by how Jackson managed to rile him up again and again. It was surreal, and he forgot where to dissociate Jackson’s body from his own. It was like his cock was meant to remain embedded deep inside of Jackson. They were supposed be created conjoined, but somehow, in a freak accident, they were separated from each other.

At some point they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Mark’s head was snug against Jackson’s chest, partially in his armpit. He moved with every rise and fall of Jackson’s chest, and he dreamed that he was in the ocean. There was the beach where he first met Jackson. There was the fire where he saw his life begin to change. Then there was the sea all around him, shifting, gathering, and dispelling. That was his future: boundless. He was eighteen, and he still had so much more. 

 

The morning sunlight hit Mark’s eyelids first. He woke with a start. At first, he had forgotten where he was. Then, feeling the hard body underneath him, he remembered everything. Slowly, he pulled the covers off of himself. When he saw that he was completely naked, he glanced over at the second bed with a jolt, but there was still no one there. The sheets were untouched. 

Mark slipped off the bed. His muscles protested when he moved to pick his clothes up from the floor. He saw his skin streaked with drying residue, but he felt he didn’t have the right to use the shower to clean off. What were the rules for one night stands? Based off the movies, he was supposed to leave as quickly as possible. 

Right? 

Jeans on, he looked to where Jackson was sleeping soundly. Deep breaths whispered past Jackson’s pink lips, and Mark only wanted to go up and kiss them again. However, Mark was reminded of his place when the weight of his phone thudded against his thigh. Pulling it out, he saw that he had several missed calls and texts from his parents, frantically asking him where he was. Mark’s heart jumped. This couldn’t be good. 

Mark left in a hurry, pulling on his shirt as he shot down the hall to the elevators. It was early enough in the morning that the traffic was relatively light. Mark slammed his way down the highway to get home. He came up with various veins of excuses on the drive back. When he ran into his parents in the living room, he was prepared with a lie about sleeping over at Bambam’s and forgetting his phone was on silent. He came back so early in the morning because he thought something was wrong. Tired, his parents lectured him briefly then shooed him off.

Stripped down in his own shower, he washed away memories of Jackson. However, the deepest ones still clung to him like leeches. When he got out and looked at himself in the mirror, he gasped at the bruises tacked along his collarbones. Carefully, he pressed one and winced at the dull pain. He frowned at himself. He couldn’t understand the momentary excitement that thudded through him like a second heartbeat when he first saw the hickeys. 

It took half a day, twelve hours, for Mark to realize what he had done. Sitting at dinner with his family, dressed in a high collared shirt, he got a text from Bambam asking about how the bonfire went. He quickly shoved the last few bites into his mouth and excused himself from the table. 

Mark answered the call that immediately came after he texted back a noncommittal “good.”

“Maaark,” Bambam yelled through the line. “I’m sorry I left you last night! Were you alright?”

“Yeah,” Mark responded as he walked away from the dining room.

“Did you drink? What did you do? Did you meet anyone?”

Mark caught his reflection as he passed by a mirror in the hall. His face was bright red at the thought.

“Nothing much,” he tried to play off casually. “Didn’t drink. Talked to a couple people though.”

“Oh, who?”

Mark paused. Jackson said that he knew Bambam. “I forgot their names.”

“Oh,” Bambam said. “I thought that was why you wanted to go out? To meet people? Did you get their numbers at least?”

“I…”

Bambam continued speaking, cutting off Mark’s words. So Mark kept his thoughts about Jackson private. He couldn’t explain why he chickened out at the last minute. He was afraid to reveal too much about what happened that night, but Bambam was one of his best friends. It didn’t make sense.

“I mean, if you didn’t connect with them—“ Mark did connect with Jackson. A fucking lot. It was insane. It didn’t make sense. “—then that’s fine. We can try again. There’s another party this weekend. I’ll invite you. I’ll try to set you up with some girls.”

However, Mark felt no urge to be set up with other girls. At this point, he had reached his room. Instead of opening the door, he leaned against it. Closing his eyes, he banged his head against the wood a couple of times. He knew why. He was so stupid to think Jackson couldn’t possibly be his reason why.

Jackson was every reason.

Mark ran back out. He slammed into his car. Somewhere along the way, he had hung up on Bambam with an excuse he had already forgotten. His foot hardly left the gas pedal as he wove between cars on the highway to get back to the Hilton by the shore. 

He parked his car in a rush and ran up to the elevators. The room number was imprinted in his mind’s eye, and he found the room like muscle memory. Walking down the hall, he held his breath. Standing in front of the door, now that he had come all the way here, his nerves coagulated and Mark couldn’t breathe even if he wanted to. He knocked before he could change his mind. 

However, no one answered. The longer he waited, the more his nerves unwound. He knocked again. Then a third time, but still there was no answer. There was no noise beyond the door. Dejected, Mark headed back to the elevators. He wondered if Jackson and his friend were out for the night. That shouldn’t surprise him, considering that they were just visiting yet already knew all the local places to drink underage. 

Back in the bright lights of the lobby, Mark caught the eye of the receptionist. There was nothing to lose, right? Mark walked over, smiling politely. 

“Hello, how can I help you?” she projected brightly. She twisted a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Could I leave a message for room 734?” Mark asked. 

“Sure,” she said, typing into her computer. “One second please.” Then her expression fell. “Um, I’m sorry, sir, but the guests have already checked out this morning. No one is staying in room 734 tonight.”

“Oh,” Mark said. They were already gone? “Thanks anyway.”

“If you want, I can see if I can forward a message to the phone number they left in the system,” she suggested.

Mark hesitated. He was caught between walking away from all of this and staying for a chance. However, he had no idea who the room was under: Jackson or the friend. He didn’t know where that number would lead. Embarrassed, he wondered if he was ready to take that chance.

“That’s okay. Have a good night.”

Mark shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked out the sliding glass doors. The humid air hit him like a wall. Mark trudged back to his car, the adrenaline seeping out of his system in rivulets. He fell into the seat of his car. Hand on the gearshift, he recalled how nicely Jackson had fit over his lap in this very seat. He leaned his head back against the headrest and recalled how Jackson had pushed him to the edge, gagging around his cock. Before Mark could feel himself getting hard again, he pulled out of the parking lot. Mindlessly, he found himself driving on the road back to the beach. He was automatically turning into a parking space facing the shore, and by then it was too late to turn back. 

He found his eyes focusing intensely on the people milling around. He was unconsciously looking for Jackson’s form among the shadows backlit by the setting sun. Tightening his fingers on his steering wheel, he felt the weight of regret dropping lead into his stomach. 

It was all his fault, and he knew it. He wasn’t sure what the normal course of action was for hookups, but he knew this wasn’t the path that he himself wanted to take. He should have tried at least a little harder to stay. In the end, didn’t that matter more than trying to fit into the norm of ‘bad’ kids? Mark wasn’t reckless; he didn’t know why he was trying to be. 

 

Mark was lost for the rest of his summer months, trying to find himself. It was the longest summer of his life. He followed at Bambam’s tail, attending parties that he never would have otherwise. However, no one he talked to seemed to get him like Jackson did. He could read the boredom off their faces halfway through the conversation. It made him curl further into himself. So he always excused himself and melded back into the crowd. At a hint of danger, he retreated.

After that experience with Jackson, nothing felt the same. A couple girls caught his eye, but the sex lacked the connection that he found with Jackson. They finished, and he did as well. That was it. He never thought about them again; he never spent sleepless nights overthinking what he could have done to keep them. He left them as one-night stands, as was fitting. Once he considered fucking another guy, but he couldn’t bring himself to force an attraction that didn’t exist. It was strange. He never knew the individual would matter more than the category. Jackson deserved much more than a one-time fling.

Jumping from party to party, Mark drank mostly beers. He tried a couple of shots but hated the taste. The feeling was alright, but he hated being so dizzy. He smoked once, but the weed hit him harder than expected and he was gone for the entire night. It all felt mindless. He was floating on an image of himself.

He replayed his night with Jackson more times than he’d like to admit. Sometimes they were pure thoughts, occupying his mind as he drove around town. Sometimes they were heated, kissing for the first time in the front seat of his car, and he’d feel the phantom pressure against his lips as if it were still real. Then there were the memories that were downright filthy: Jackson riding Mark like he was made for it, Jackson moaning in his ear as he came. Whenever Mark would recall how nicely their bodies fit together, he’d harden a little in his pants. It was dangerous. Jackson was his trigger.

But as the tapes rolled continuously in his head, until the reel ran out and the tail would flick against the player over and over, Mark came to regret every little action he made. What if he had stayed that morning? What if Mark had questioned more on how Jackson knew Bambam? What if Mark actually grew the balls to ask Bambam about Jackson? And, all in all, what if Mark had simply left his phone number before fleeing home? 

Maybe this is why Mark enjoyed the mindless dysphoria of the following months: because it countered the regret he drowned in otherwise. 

However, Mark was too scared to do anything real to fix it. He couldn’t talk to anyone for fear of admitting that he might be into guys. He couldn’t bring himself to DM the Jackson Wang he found on Twitter through Bambam’s followers. Scrolling through his feed, Mark wondered if this was even the same person he shared his life story to. More and more, the experience gained a surreal quality. After the bruises faded, he began wondering if he had even stepped foot on that beach and felt the fire dance across his skin on that fatefully warm June night.

 

Mark straightened back out the week before college started. He reassumed his role as the good Christian son, and everything returned to normal. He cleared his search history of his attempts to stalk Jackson and started anew. Mark tried to forget the perfect boy with the Wang tattoo and tight ass. He abandoned any idea of leaving his shell because, once again, he had failed. 

On the first day of university, he kissed his mom and hugged his dad before he left. They wished him well, and he just prayed that he could find a parking space and make it on time. Turns out, he was as late as he feared. Time was ticking down while he ran across campus from the parking lot. At first, he couldn’t find the right room and that almost fucked him over. As his phone’s clock ticked to nine, he rushed in through the back door, sweaty and flushed. Then he realized that he hadn’t shown up an unspoken ten minutes early, and all of the seats were filled. He scanned the rows as he clamored down the steps and sat in the first seat off the aisle that he could find. He nearly sat on the arm of the guy next to him.

The guy tried to stop him. “Sorry, I was saving this seat for—,” the guy paused. “Mark?!”

Mark jerked his head up at the familiar voice and saw Jackson sitting in the seat next to him, his arm still extended across the distance. Mark’s heart started pounding so hard that the loud chatter of everyone around him drowned out to nothing. He told himself that it was because he was taken off guard, but something was hinting that it was more. Mark stared wide-eyed at Jackson, taking in the boyish bangs, the round eyes, and his turtle lips. Slowly, Mark registered what Jackson was saying before he yelled his name across the lecture hall. 

“Oh, uh, I didn’t know this seat was taken. Um, I’ll move then.” Trying to make up for how the mere sight of Jackson had frozen him in place, Mark scrambled to gather up his things. However, Jackson quickly grabbed his hand to stop him. 

“No, stay. Fuck my friend. It’s his fault for being late.”

“I’m late too,” Mark reasoned, trying to remove his hand from Jackson’s grip. 

“You’re on time. No one told you that you had to be a kiss up by coming half an hour early and lining up at the door. Look, the professor isn’t even here yet.”

Mark looked to the front of the hall and noticed that there was, in fact, an empty podium. 

“Is that what you did then?” Mark gradually relaxed back into Jackson’s friend’s seat. “You’re such a good student.”

Jackson snorted. “I came from the class next door. Plus, my friend said he’d buy me coffee if I saved him a seat.”

Mark tried to get up again. “Seriously, I can move so you can get your coffee. There’s a seat just down there that I can sit in. It’s harder to find two seats next to each other now.”

Jackson firmed his grip on Mark’s wrist. “Neither of us is moving. I’m not even that big of a coffee drinker.”

Mark couldn’t respond. Was Jackson trying to say that he was worth more than the company of his friend and a cup of coffee? Mark didn’t want to assume too much, but he was getting jittery just sitting so close to Jackson. Anxiously, he brushed his bangs out of his eyes as a way to casually wipe the sweat beading his forehead. He was panting still; maybe he smelled. He was not in a state ready to be seen by someone this hot. At least he had made the effort to wear something sort of nice on his first day.

Thankfully, the professor burst through the doors at the bottom of the lecture hall and interrupted their sad attempt at a conversation. 

Mark fidgeted throughout the entire 50 minutes. He was hyperconscious of the body sitting next to him and could hardly focus on much else. Everything came back to him then, and Mark was so embarrassed that he could die. There were his awkward interactions with Jackson in the beginning, there was the back and forth when Mark was debating his sexuality, and there was the prick (Mark) that ran away the next morning. Then, Mark wallowed in how he had overthought the whole thing for months after. He was so pathetic.

When the professor finally wrapped up, it came as a huge relief. Mark threw his things into his bag and tried to escape. However, again, Jackson pulled him back by the handle on his backpack. 

“Come on. Walk with me.”

“I have class!” Mark tried to protest. 

“Well I don’t, so let me walk you.”

Mark relented. Jackson was dragged along with him through the crowd of three hundred first years trying to exit the lecture hall through two doors. When they finally hit fresh air, Jackson jogged up next to him. 

“Can I ask why you left that morning? I didn’t ask Bam because I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to know. But it really wasn’t that nice to wake up with an ass full of cum and no one in my bed.”

Mark felt his heart drop. He expected the conversation to go a thousand different directions. This was the last thing he wanted.

“Was I that bad?” Jackson persisted, not waiting for Mark to answer. He realized quickly that the sympathy card was a shit tactic. “If it wasn’t good, I swear usually I’m much better. If you want to try again—.”

“What? No! I-I mean, it’s not that you were bad. I… I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I didn’t know…”

“Did I scare you then? Do you want to forget all of this ever happened? Though I guess you were straight before. Did you want to go back to that? Should I pretend I don’t know you—?“

“No! No, just... hold on,” Mark tried to process everything that was happening. “I wasn’t scared. I’m not trying to pretend nothing happened. I just… didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”

“Supposed to do?”

Mark lowered his voice. “Don’t people normally sneak out quietly after a one night stand? Isn’t that what they do in on TV?”

“One night stand?!”

Mark shushed him, pulling at his arm abruptly. 

Jackson huffed. “That is what it was, huh.”

“I mean, I... it was really good.”

“But it was just nothing.”

“I tried to...” Mark’s voice cracked. “Uh, I tried to come back later that day, but you were gone.”

“Yeah, that was my last night here.”

“Then isn’t that exactly what it was? Just a thing? You come and then you leave. No hello or goodbye.”

Jackson shrugged. His pace slowed a little. “I just thought that we had a connection. We talked well. The sex was fucking amazing. It must have just been me then, since you left before I even woke up.”

“My parents were worried.”

Jackson hummed. “I forgot you’re such a good boy.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Why are you here anyway?”

“I go here.”

“What?”

“When I came over the summer, I was here for out-of-state orientation.”

Mark stopped walking.

“My next class is just in here,” he said awkwardly, pointing to the door they were at. His mind was racing, but he had to consider where he was. They couldn’t keep walking just to continue the conversation that Mark had dreamt of for months. 

Jackson nodded, about to head away. Mark felt time slow. Everything that he had regretted dropped onto his head like ice water. If he didn’t stop Jackson now, will he ever get the chance to again? Did he want to repeat the two months of radio static where he was floating aimlessly through white noise? He didn’t get a chance to explain how he had been looking for Jackson, how he had wanted to talk to him again. He couldn’t say how no one he met has once been able to light a candle to Jackson’s brilliance. Together, they were magnetic. 

“Give me your number!” Mark blurted out. 

Jackson turned around, caught off guard. “What?”

“Your number… please,” Mark added. 

“I thought I fucked everything up.”

“I told you before, didn’t I? You wouldn’t. Ever.”

A grin lit Jackson’s face. “Meet me after class. Let’s get coffee.”

“You said you hated coffee,” Mark protested.

“For you, I’m sure it wouldn’t taste so bad.”

_Was it a daydream or was it fate?_

Although Mark had agreed to Jackson’s ridiculousness, he really did not know the answer. Still, he was smiling throughout lecture just thinking about Jackson and the crazy way they met and then re-met. He recalled their matching underwear incident and considered how he had subconsciously reached for his red boxer briefs this morning as well. Mark wasn’t one to believe in pure chance, but he was more than tempted to believe Jackson was real.

**Author's Note:**

> ♪ Strawberries & Cigarettes - Troye Sivan ♪
> 
> This song is definitely the mood of this fic. Wrote most of the story with this song on repeat in the background. You can listen to it comfortably ^^
> 
> Hope you enjoyed~


End file.
